All in a day's work
by Mika Uriah
Summary: Completely AU - no telekinesis or weather manipulation here - Ororo finds a positive side to avoiding a deer and ending up ankle deep in mud on a Ohio state country road. Femslash.


All in a days work - a femslash AU Xmen fanfic.

by Mika Uriah

A/N: Based on the short story THE TOW by L. SHANE CONNER

DISCLAIMER: I can honestly say that nothing in this story is mine - I don't own Jean, Ororo, or in this case even the plot (Jean and Ororo belong to Marvel and the story is based off of another piece by L. Shane Conner that can be found in a Lesbian Erotica anthology) I do however own the bookshelf that my own copy of the Lesbian anthology can be found on. (Okay, I share that with my husband)

Since my recent graduation and my move from New York State to Ohio, I've been working for a uniform supply company in Columbus. It's low stress and includes health insurance but its kind of boring most of the time. I go in at five in the morning, pick up my truck, and drive around the country side delivering uniforms to various businesses. I am supposed to try and sell more then they actually order but usually they're not interested. The scenery is mostly cows and cornfields, and a lot of businesses are run by good old boys and your garden variety red neck. But I get weekends off and I don't have to wear femme drag, which is good since I'm a wimp in heels.

One morning a couple of weeks ago a deer ran in front of my truck. I hit the breaks, swerved and ended up in a field of corn that looked like a battlefield graveyard with the mud and brown, bare stalks. For a long, quiet minute I sat still behind the wheel. Staring at the dashboard, my heart pounding, and the adrenaline making me shake. At fifty miles an hour, when the truck came up on two wheels, I'd been sure it was going to fall. When I got out to survey the damage, everything looked pretty much okay except that I was thirty or forty feet off the road ankle deep in mud and there was no way I was going to be able to drive back out.

The tow truck took at least half an hour to get there and when it did, it turned out one of my axels was broken and the truck wasn't drivable, My company said one of the other drivers could pick me up around four and he'd call when he was on the way. I looked at my watch: eleven-thirty. The nearest town was only the size of a couple of city blocks, and I had at least four hours to kill. I leaned my head back against the seat of the two truck and closed my eyes. The tow truck guy got in and then asked me if I was all right.

"Yeah, I'm just stuck out here until at least four and I feel like an idiot for running off the road just to avoid a deer."

"Don't worry about it," he said "Happens all the time. They do just as much damage if you hit 'em." There was a long silence while he put his truck in gear and pulled off the narrow shoulder onto the road.

"You're welcome to join me for lunch. I mean there is a diner in town with pretty good food and I'm going over there as soon as I drop the truck off at the garage."

I guess because I was shaken by the accident I hadn't paid much attention to the tow truck guy. He had on baggy works clothes with a ball cap that pulled low over his eyes. His name tag said JEAN, and even though his voice was deep with a rough edge to it he barely even had what could pass for peach fuzz on his cheeks. He looked like he still belonged in high school. He seemed like a nice, polite kid and the diner looked like something out of a movie with a happy ending so I followed him down the block from his garage and across the street when he held the door open for me I almost thought he was flirting. He wasn't that much younger, but, then I thought I was probably flattering myself. I'm a little to jock and a little to butch to appeal to most young guys.

I realized my mistake as he took his hat off. My tow truck guy was a woman, I never would've have missed it in the city. I guess queer people live everywhere, but I never really pictured us a part of small-town life. Sure, maybe she wasn't queer. May be she was passing as a boy, maybe she was in transition. She looked butcher then I think I do, and people mistake me for a guy all the time, even gay men once in a while.

We drank coffee while we waited for our food. I remember she took hers black but, I can't remember anything we talked about during lunch. The more I looked at her, the more I couldn't believe I'd mistaken her for a boy.

Her hands were strong but they weren't a man's hands, and there was something pretty about her eyes. She caught me staring at her but she just smiled and kept on eating. We finally started really talking while we walked back to the garage, though shallow as it sounds, I think I asked her questions mainly just to hear her voice.

It turned out her father had owned the garage and she'd grown up working on cars with him. When she was eighteen she'd gone away to college but when he died of cancer a few years later, she'd come back to run the garage and take care of her mother, who started going senile the day after her father died. I still didn't know how to broach the subject of her being queer. I kept getting distracted by little things about her and I felt self-conscious, which is not the usual way I feel about women. It's not that I'm the hottest girl around, its just that I've always been sure I could please a woman - any woman. It sounds vain when I say it, but it's not a matter of having some great technique so much as; really, sincerely wanting to please women.

I felt like an awkward kid with her and I couldn't figure out why. I tried not to fidget and play with my clothes while she unlocked the side door of the garage and stepped back to let me in. Then it hit me. I'm always the one who holds the door, the one who lifts heavy boxes. I'm not stone, but when I meet a woman I'm attracted to I want to have her, to taste her, to feel her body move beneath my hands to hear her voice change when she comes, I wanted this woman to take me, and it was a new and powerful feeling.

Inside the garage it was warm and she took off her work shirt, stripping down to an old stained tank top. She was thin, but the muscles in her shoulders and arms stood out in strong, clean lines. I tried to be nonchalant, eye balling a really old car I couldn't believe still ran while she did something or other in the garage's small office. When she came back out she told me she planned to restore the car to its original 1958 glory. She already had it running, now all it needed was fine-tuning and a lot of body work. She came toward me while I was running my hand over the primer that covered the hood.

I thought she was trying to squeeze past but she stopped, almost touching me, the heat of our bodies mingling between us, palpable as a third skin. My breath caught in my throat, which is something I thought only happened to beautiful female leads in old movies with long dancing scenes. Her eyes caught mine. I wanted her,and I was sure she knew it. Before I could say anything she brought her hand up between my legs, hard. My ass hit the cool cinder block of the wall behind me, followed by one of her fingers finding my clit through my pants. She lifted my chin with her other hand and kissed my neck her fingers traced the line of my jaw, her thumb ran along my lower lip.

She stopped abruptly, leaned back, and looked down at my feet. "Why don't kick your shoes off," she said in a voice that was more of a command than a request.

I hesitated maybe a second. As soon as my shoes were off she had my pants and underwear down around my ankles. She turned me and put me on the hood of the car, lifting me with surprise ease. It was cold against the bare skin of my ass, colder than the wall had been and smoother, I could still feel her hand pressing into me.

She ran a finger between the folds of my labia and smiled as she felt the wetness there. I could see her pulse on the side of her throat, but I couldn't look any higher than the corner of her mouth, still couldn't get myself to meet her eyes. She pulled me forward by the front of my shirt and kissed me full on the lips, her tongue in almost immediately, not forceful but curious, exploring. When she pulled away again she had unbuttoned my shirt and now she slid it off over my shoulders followed it with the boy's large tank top I wear in place of a bra.

She pushed me onto the steel hood, fondling my breasts, kneading with her calloused palms. Without hurting, her touch communicated strength. My feet were still resting on the broad fender as my back pressed against the hood. Smooth cold metal traced a new crease into the muscle of my thigh. As the weight of the thing fell across my belly I could see that it was some kind of wrench, rounded at both ends and nearly a foot and a half long. My body jumped and the muscles of my inner thighs contracted involuntarily as she ran the handle between my legs, pushing the hood back from my swelling clit. She eased the long handle inside me and I thought about objecting. I meant to. Then she tilted the end up and found my G-spot. She wasn't fucking me with the wrench so much as massaging the spot while her left hand continued to explore every inch of my skin within reach. The pads of her fingers drew the tense edges of my nipples that and I felt myself finally begin to press back against her.

When I came she slid the wrench away, setting it gently on the floor. Then I felt her mouth on me. She brought my knees up over her shoulders as she buried her face between my legs. Her tongue probed my cunt, working its way up, circling my clit pressing the glans into the back of her teeth. Then she stopped her tongue inside the clit hood and drew the swelling flesh from the folds surrounding it. She flicked her tongue over my clit in a growing rhythm, then sucked it deep into her mouth. After I came a second time, my hands over my head, holding onto the top edge of the hood of the car, squeezing her head between my thighs, she didn't even seem to struggle as she walked up the stairs, holding me in the arms like a child.

I don't know what I thought the upstairs room would look like but I was surprised. I guess maybe I expected something like a student decor, or stereotypical bachelor pad. The only posters were framed prints, Van Gogh, and Georgia O'Keefe. There were no beer cans or liquor bottles in sight, and the bookshelf was more dominant than the television. It was a large room, with a Japanese style folding screen at one end in the front of the bed. She set me gently on the bed and for a while we just kissed as she let me begin to explore her body. I liked the shape of her muscles and I liked the shape of her breasts too. I sucked on her nipples, I kissed every piece of skin I could reach with my mouth, and gradually I eased her stained, navy work pants open. They slid easily over her narrow hips but I had to kneel on the floor to untie her boots before I could pull everything free.

I eased her boxers off separately, pausing to look at her when I did. The beautiful woman's shape that she had been hiding under the clothes left me feeling reverent, as through I were viewing some special, secret place. I kissed the hollow at the inside edge of her hip bone first, slowly moving down to the crease where her leg ended in the dark red curls of her pubic hair. I could smell the light scent of her and, though I had expected to have to work hard to turn her on I found her already wet. She ran her fingers through my hair as I ran the tip of my tongue down between her outer labia. I pulled them slowly apart as I probed deeper, exploring, learning the shape of her. I began to experiment with my technique, wondering if she really was enjoying it. Suddenly her hand gripped the back of my head, barely catching in my short white hair, and I knew I'd found the right spot - But she was still quiet. Even when she came, only small gasps escaped. I knew I could get her to be louder if she gave me the chance.

We held each other for a long time. At first we didn't talk, only traced each other's bodies with gentle fingers as we kissed slow and long. When we did begin talking it seemed like we were able to be easy and familiar without trying.

We'd read a lot of the same books and had a lot of the same favorites. We decided see each other again on the weekend. She said she could drive up to Columbus on Friday night and stay right through Sunday.

Fortunately there came a lull in our conversation when my cell phone rang or I wouldn't have heard it. It was still clipped onto my pants downstairs on the garage floor.

Logan was coming to pick me up and he'd be there in about twenty minutes. After I'd put my clothes back on I called him back and gave him the address. We kissed and cuddled inside the garage until we heard Logan honk out front, then we hugged one last time and I left, promising to call her the next day.

End.


End file.
